


en nocturne

by maramiel



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Magic, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:14:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25100731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maramiel/pseuds/maramiel
Summary: Seokmin miraculously stumbles into the clutches of several hundred year old vampire monarch Minghao, sparking the creation of a new world, unparalleled for centuries to come.
Relationships: Lee Seokmin | DK/Xu Ming Hao | The8
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	en nocturne

**Author's Note:**

> [A playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6nG49WqxHckJOBEoeMSQmh?si=YKK5QF1mQrKoB1GVfRjzQA&nd=1&nd=1)  
> I’ll be updating if u like listening while reading !!

Amongst a ruin of trees spanning endlessly in the great forest, a young boy found himself lost in a familiar setting stumbling under the canopy, evading roots as if copying the tree’s crown shyness; night was nearly at its darkest.

He had only meant to spend a few minutes out back behind his home looking for ingredients to better his families supper, nothing more. It was now clear that he was lost, unable to see and unable to recognize where exactly he was headed. Every last tree seemed to form an impenetrable wall keeping him from ever returning home.

_ Hurry, Seokmin! We’ve got dinner to cook, all we need are a few more mushrooms! _

How had this happened to him? The woods had always kept him, as the eldest and fastest growing child, the family, and the whole village fed. It was a place of solace and opportunity, so how had he walked this far into the fog after only a few minutes?

Every noise surrounding him was exemplified, yet the sources remained unknown. Breaking free of the path time after time to trace it led him astray, further and further yet from encountering any way back.

After what seemed like hours, the boy, almost a man, sunk to his knees on the verge of weeping. He had been wandering, finding no one, not even an animal, who may have been willing to guide him. It was dark, and the fog most certainly did not help his situation. All he had wanted was to return home and be embraced by the warmth of the fireplace, his bed, the stew for supper possibly still being made as he lowered himself down, the comfort of the village's network of families as sturdy as the ground underneath his body, and his mother’s arms. As frail as they might have seemed, they held years of struggle and weights unimaginable to the young man, much like the tree he now found himself draped over, embracing it as if receiving a hug, as he fell into a rest unfitting of his current situation...

-

The first sign that something was amiss was the sensation of the sheet laying over his newly awakened form. Though he did not grapple himself up from his resting position, Seokmin was most certainly startled, eyes shooting open. The hands lying by his sides took a handful of the foreign fabric, rubbing between each of his fingers in a daze of fear and curiosity, recognizing it in a drowsy craze as silk; no one in the village had ever possessed a garment made of silk, let alone had the chance to feel it with their own hands, aside from his father, a traveling merchant, of course. He was far from home, he had realized instantaneously.

_ While in the royal city, I came across a curious fabric called silk, son. A tailor granted me a chance to touch a piece of it. It was surely a regal thing. If you were really listening well enough you could hear it rustle against itself. It was smooth to the touch as well, very much fit for the King and Queen, as well as the members of their court. I wish I could have brought a piece back for you to see, it was a lovely thing, it was. _

Had Seokmin travelled that far, close enough to a city like the one his father had visited? Seokmin allowed himself only a moment longer of thought in the strange bed before climbing out of it. He needed to find his way back home and tell his father his own stories of the precious commodity.

The room he found himself in was huge, almost bigger than the entirety of his own home. Walking towards the middle of the room revealed Seokmin’s own reflection in the mirror covered in a golden trim,  _ quite possibly made of real gold _ , Seokmin thought to himself. After only what he had seen from one room, he knew that the owner was unimaginably wealthy. Being able to own a room of this size was one thing; being able to fill it completely with furniture, paintings, and fine trinkets was another.

The reflection of himself was another point of interest. Seokmin supposed that he had received a bath or at least a good washing down in the time he had been sleeping. It made him feel uneasy, knowing he had fallen into a deep enough rest to remain asleep during a bath. The sweat and the dirt on his skin from running in the forest were gone, leaving him clean. He smelled nice as well, he began to realize. A scent of flowers seeped from his soft skin. His clothes too were a sight he had never seen before, his top half particularly. The shirt was buttoned only half of the way, running open down right below his chest, and purely white, also made of silk as the sheets were.

The finer details were briskly looked over, however. In another situation, he would have spent hours observing the ornately decorated room filled to the brim with ornaments covering every surface available for use, though he had no time to take everything in. He needed answers as quickly as he could encounter them. With his shoes nowhere to be found, he left the room in search of the person, or the people, that had brought him there.

Stepping out of the heavy door to the room he was placed in brought Seokmin to a corridor befitting of the room he had been stowed away in. As he began to run down the hallway, the red carpet flooding it braced every heavy step falling to the ground. Scanning through every unlocked room, searching for any sign of life, and scuttling into side rooms, the young boy ventured through vast empty spaces. Though devoid of anybody, every last room was kept tidy and dusted precisely.

He grew anxious and restless, avoiding the remaining rooms lining the hallway in search of another area hopefully holding something living. Allowing his feet to guide him into territories unknown, he sprinted through more hallways mirroring the one he had just come from and into a foyer. Seokmin could not help but stare.

The staircase was made of quartz, flooding into the lower floor made entirely of the same material and covered in a glorious carpet. Its railings were composed of gold, matching the frame of the spectacle almost at eye level with Seokmin from his spot upon the second level. A chandelier hung directly in front of him from the ceiling, a piece of art in itself displaying a plethora of individual murals completely enveloping it, with crystals spanning the metal skeleton they were draped upon.

A sudden break in his concentration came in the form of the sound of a soft piano echoing from the other side of the foyer. It beckoned him forward, calling to him, and before Seokmin knew it, he had found the source coming from the doors, that sat ajar, to a study. The music had grown monumentally in volume as he neared the room, a byproduct of the increase in tension from the piece being played and the closeness of his own position in relation to the room. Seokmin looked in through the crack between the open door, finally encountering the source of the music, a possible savior. Recognizing someone breathing the same air as he for the first time in god knew how long grounded him in comfort, all prior panic leaving him momentarily.

… and the music continued. Completely enamored by the sound, he remained staring, finally noticing the man’s face: pale, beautiful, but, most importantly, human. A heart beating full throttle caged within his frail form. The man’s lithe fingers danced across ivory, ghosting as quickly as they moved. His body moved too, expressive, understanding the song with every inch of his being as his cloaked figure swayed in time. It was clear he was experienced. With ease, he played every note perfectly, every wrinkle or sign of worry stripped from his countenance. The porcelain man eased out of his concentration gradually, turning eventually to face the boy.

It was only then that Seokmin recognized his fingernails, sharpened to a point. Those graceful hands, now resting at his side as he stood from the piano bench, now sent a shiver through the boy’s body.  _ Maybe it’s just a popular body adornment in the city _ , he thought to himself.

“Finally awake?”

The nameless man motioned for Seokmin to enter the room, receiving no response or sign that Seokmin understood anything of what he had just seen and heard from the other.

Again, he called to the boy, “Come inside, darling. There’s no need in continuing to hide yourself behind that door, is there?”

The pet name dragged Seokmin back into reality. He stepped forward and closed the door behind himself, feeling the man’s heavy gaze and his body begin to emit an unexpected feeling of fear, creeping into his body as soon as the world was shut out behind the study’s doors.

“Where am I,” Seokmin had asked, hoping the man’s answer would give him a place, a name, an area he was familiar with to draw a mental map for himself in order to find his way home, “and who are you?”

The answer that came attempted to bring the topic away from this, as if he knew where Seokmin was headed with the conversation.

“Let’s sit before we begin a barrage of questions, yeah?” The man motioned towards a sitting area on the other side of the study. “You’re confused, I understand, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be comfortable while we talk.”

While leading both to the other side of the study, the man, seemingly the owner of the castle by the way his lavish dressing style matched the chateau, shone even without an ounce of sunlight in the room. His pale skin blinded Seokmin even when only observing peripherally. Every movement the man made was clear cut and smooth, lacking definition and continuously flooding together. Purely put, he glided to the spot across the small coffee table, his arms moving in perfect time with his legs.

“Do you enjoy tea?” he had asked with a ponderous raise of his eyebrows. “Would you maybe tell me a bit about yourself, starting with your name, over a cup? That’d be nice, wouldn’t it?” shallow and callously the chatter continued without an ounce of worry or compassion. It did not sound as if the man was genuine to Seokmin.

A bell the boy hadn’t noticed before on the table beside the other’s own seat was ringing in unison with the abrupt end to his sentence. Almost immediately, the entrance which Seokmin had come through was opening after a curt knock. A servant girl, equally as pale as the other man, held a tray filled with a tea pot and an assortment of tea china in her hands. As she set the tray down, Seokmin felt a quick impulse flood over him as his eyes shot over to the girl, her head quickly turning away from him as her light hair fell to shutter her face. Before he could begin to comprehend this interaction, she had turned and left, allowing the man to begin slowly pouring the freshly brewed tea that had arrived out of thin air, instantaneously.

The grandfather clock ticking in the corner of the room deafened the boy’s thoughts. Every tick the clock made was another second that his family would have to worry after him, anxiety overflowing endlessly. They had already waited long enough.

“If you wish to address me, you may call me Minghao.” he laughed sparingly at his own words. “Not everyone receives the authority to call me by my first name. I hope you know that makes you very special.” The ease with which the man readied the cups for seeping sent another wave of unrest free from within. How could he be so calm when Seokmin was clearly upset, teetering on the edge of falling apart? “I believe now it is your turn to share your name…”

With hands sweating, gripping the leather arm of the chair, Seokmin began to shake. “I... I need to go home, please!” he spat out. “I can’t stay here any longer than I already have, I just can’t!” 

In effect, Minghao blinked, his former moments of rudimentary small talk reduced to silence. The room followed the change in atmosphere, the torches lining the study’s walls began to dim.

The easy smile and faux glee held in effect was stripped from the other man’s face, replaced with a darker, more intense expression. His back straightened and his hands originally tasked with pouring tea moved into his lap, mirroring Seokmin’s clenching fists with his own slacks. Holding a deep sigh down, the man gruffly spoke, “Do you know what I am, Seokmin?” leaning forward onto his elbows. Clasping his hands together before his face, the unhuman being opened his eyes to reveal a new golden hue. As Seokmin looked on in silent fear after hearing his name from a stranger, before sharing it himself, Minghao began again. “I am a Vampire. I am positive that elders where you come from have told tales regarding those of my kind. It mustn't be that grand of a surprise to you, or am I wrong?” Calmly spoken daggers seemed to ease themselves into the young boy’s chest, making it hard for him to breathe in the cryptic’s presence.

As lithe beings do, the vampire shifted effortlessly to stand from his chair in one fell swoop, continuing. “Telling you that might make what I am about to say easier to digest, in all honesty; my intent is not to terrify you.” His hands rose to exemplify the room the pair occupied themselves in, along with the remainder of the extravagant abode. “You see, this castle does not exist in the area of the world you reign from, where you spent the entirety of your childhood. I made it that way, to keep people like you out, but you found your way here anyways, didn’t you?”

A grim energy flooded within Seokmin’s body at the change of tone in the man’s voice. His shift in tamber pointed to unfavorable answers, things Seokmin did not want to hear or even imagine. Ever more apprehensive, he asked with the smallest amount of hope left. “How do I get home then?”

“You cannot, at least for now.” As the vampire drifted ever so carefully towards the younger, the boy shuddered, alone with his thoughts blocking out his senses, leaving him dead to the world as he knew it. To hear his fear voiced aloud sent him spiraling, grief overtaking him.

Crossing through the gap between the coffee table and the velvet loveseat, Minghao placed himself in front of Seokmin, who began to shrink into the chair he sat in whilst being captured intensely in eye contact. Wiry arms fell to cage the sorrow-filled boy in a deliberate attempt to contain him, prompting a controlled rendition of his form of an apology. “However, the ward surrounding the castle grounds is opened every three months for  **_hunting_ ** humans like you. I suppose I could find a way to release you then.” Hot tears fell from Seokmin’s eyes, a testament to his sadness, his unrest, his disappointment.  


“Worry not, young one, I would never have allowed a boy like you to be maimed during the hunt.” he had whispered, leaning ever closer. “No, you’re much too beautiful.” His hands tilted Seokmin’s chin higher, to allow for easier viewing- Minghao seemed to feed off of his sentiment alone.

Nowhere to go, under that heady gaze, Seokmin found himself unable to escape. A grin baring fangs widened before him, and those striking orbs hanging overhead began to darken, aging to form a deep red much like wine does. Without consciously realizing it, unkempt desire swarmed through his veins, gradually numbing him. Seokmin grew increasingly intoxicated in those moments, unable to control himself before drifting off into a place where no forgiveness remained to supplement his own easy mind.

There were no humans here, he finally understood as cold thumbs brushed away the heat streaming from his eyes.


End file.
